The Girls of Cropton Hall

by Stanlegh Meresith

  Seated on the damp turf with her legs out in front of her, Rachel hit the ground furiously with her stick. Damn! Damn! Damn! She'd gone and done exactly what Gibbo had said not to - she'd charged in. She looked up and round. She saw Mr Pill leering at her and she was sorely tempted to stick her tongue out at him but with the entire staff and her mother watching, she managed to restrain herself. She did narrow her eyes at him though, in an unmistakable message of disdain.

  She clambered up, grimacing, and turned to see Wagstaff receiving the congratulations of her teammates. As the Old Croptonian came back for the re-start, she smiled sympathetically at Rachel and put a hand on her shoulder.

  "Are you all right?" she asked with genuine concern. "That was quite a Youch! I heard they brought back the cane. Did you get it...?"

  Rachel nodded.

  "When?"

  "This morning."

  "How many?"

  "Twelve."

  "God, you poor thing. I know what it's like. Well ... chin up, Cropton girl. I'll try and go easy on you, all right?"

  Rachel looked at her gratefully, and Maggie ran back to her position.

  And she was true to her word. Presumably spurred by painful memories of her own, and out of solidarity with a fellow-sufferer, the Old Croptonians' centre forward contrived thereafter to stumble, muff, misplace and generally fail to make an impression for the rest of the match, though she continued to show some flashes of skill when she wasn't in Rachel's vicinity so that the subterfuge wasn't too glaringly patent. She allowed Rachel to tackle her several times, to great cheers, making a show of banging her stick on the ground in frustration when the younger girl came away with the ball. Although Rachel realised immediately what was going on, and knew that this wasn't a true reflection of her skills, she was still able to enjoy the rapturous approval of the on-lookers each time she came out on top. She felt awed by the generosity of this former Head Girl, especially for how cleverly she feigned losing the ball and getting beaten in the tackle.

  In the second half, the classic Cropton double-act had its moment: Pearson, with a superbly deft pass, sent Bennett through on goal, and this time Julia made no mistake, side-stepping the Old Croptonians' goalie and doing her cheeky act of standing on the goal-line for a delicious moment before tapping the ball in.

  The school went wild, with chants of 'Bennett and Pearson, Cropton are fearsome' ringing round the pitch, but that was the high point of the action and the game ended in the fair result of a 1 - 1 draw, all honours satisfied.

  When the final whistle blew, Maggie Wagstaff came straight over and made a show of congratulating Rachel, shaking her hand and patting her on the back (the upper back). Rachel felt overwhelmed with respect for this kind young woman and stammered as she struggled to express her gratitude.

  "Th - thank you! You ... you just made me look so good. I ... I ... don't know wha-..."

  "Hey! I enjoyed it, it was fun," said Maggie, putting an arm round Rachel and swinging her stick expertly in her other hand. "I'm getting a few dirty looks from the girls, but hey, it's only an exhibition match. And after that 'Youch', I could see you wincing as you ran. That's not fair! You can't play your best just hours after a swishing like that!"

  "Are you ... Maggie Wagstaff?" Rachel asked.

  "Yes, that's me. What's your name?"

  "Rachel, Rachel Thomas..."

  "Well, Rachel Thomas, lovely to meet you, and ..." She winked at her knowingly, " ... well played!" Rachel smiled sheepishly. As her mother approached with Susan and Grace in tow, all beaming with pride, Maggie stepped away tactfully.

  "Hey!" she said in parting. "Be good! And if you can't be good ... don't get caught!" She gave Rachel another mischievous wink.

  "Bye," said Rachel reluctantly, gazing admiringly after her before she turned to receive, a little reluctantly, the glowing plaudits of her loved ones.

  As Rachel and her coterie of happy admirers were walking back towards school, Julia and Gabrielle came over and joined them. Rachel introduced her mother, who congratulated both of them on their play and Gabrielle on being Head Girl. When Mr French engaged Patricia and Susan (with much rolling of the eyes from the latter) in a conversation about the mating habits of magpies (which were greatly in evidence over on the lower field), Julia and Gabrielle sandwiched Rachel, taking her by an arm each.

  "So ... Rache, well played!" said Julia. "But what did you say to that Maggie Wagstaff? After her goal she completely lost her touch."

  "Yes, Rache," said Gabby. "Did you threaten her with SWACK or something?" They both laughed. Rachel frowned momentarily but quickly accepted the ribbing as kindly meant.

  "No," she said, "she was really incredible actually." She explained what had happened - about Maggie's sympathy and sense of fair play.

  "Well, well, well," said Julia, as they walked along, arm in arm. "Gabby, didn't you say she got a massive thrashing from the Old Boot when she was Head Girl?"

  "Yes, that's right. I saw the marks. I'll never forget - they're etched in my memory."

  "Not half as etched as they were on her bottom, I'll bet," said Julia, mischievously.

  "No!" laughed Gabby. "I can't remember what she'd done but she got it twice as bad because she was Head Girl."

  "You'd better watch out then, hadn't you?" said Julia.

  "Oh, don't worry about me, Julia. Been there, done that."

  Rachel allowed herself to be carried along between the two bantering upper-sixth girls and she sighed happily as they approached the main building. Life was good.

  ---oOo---

  Edith Mary Bainbridge: her diary

  Friday, October 1st (Founder's Day)

  I believe our founders would have been truly proud of us all today!

  But what a day! We had the first assembly caning since I can't remember when - it was distressing but simply unavoidable after what those girls did to the crest. Verily, of course, carried it off with her usual firm dexterity and calm aplomb and I must say the girls concerned (Middleton, Jennings and Thomas) all took their punishments with courage and dignity in the circumstances. They certainly got the thrashings of their lives! The whole school was mesmerised.

  And then Lady Althorp! It was a tragedy of course, but as Monica said, she died with a smile on her lips, and which of us could ask for more? Sir Wilfred kept saying this afternoon, 'She had a good innings' (which was fitting as I'm sure I remember someone telling me that her Ladyship had been a fine cricketer in her day). The poor man was absolutely marvellous - carried out all his duties to the letter, though I could see he was on the edge of tears a lot of the time.

  We had a tremendous turn-out - at least eighty parents, and Verily said there were some thirty or forty prospectives too, which bodes well for enrolment in January and next summer. And despite the shocking start to the day, it turned out marvellously. The girls were on their best behaviour - mind you, seeing Molly swishing down on those poor bottoms first thing must have done wonders in that department. Lunch was plentiful and delicious (thank heavens Verily decided not to leave it all up to Cook) and the First XI acquitted themselves honourably in a 1 - 1 draw with the Old girls.

  The final of the Form Groups performances was also a great success and a good advertisement, I thought, for the school. The Upper Sixth girls went first and did marvellously with Othello's last scene - and to those of us in the know about the whole Barton and Bennett saga, it was really quite spine-chilling at times. It certainly did seem to be a case of art imitating life (Barton having tried it the other way round of course, to her cost) - the passage leading up to Pearson (as Othello) smothering Bennett (Desdemona) was very well done. Monica told me afterwards about Pearson and Bennett's argument outside Verily's study just before I made my awful mistake of caning Bennett, so that too had an element of the real about it. But it was Barton's performance as Iago that really had everyone on the edge of their seats. Quite extraordinary! And it was very touching at the end when, after they'd each taken a bow, they hugged each other-
smiles all round!!

  Prudence's form did another last scene from a tragedy - Romeo and Juliet this time - which wasn't nearly as polished of course but still extremely affecting. Thomas, bless her, did well as Romeo and, again, those in the know couldn't help noticing the occasional wince that wasn't entirely due to fine acting!

  The winners, however, were Emily Stokes' form, for whom Simpson stood out with a beautiful performance. The whole thing was enchanting. Apparently 'The Nightingale' had been one of Lady Althorp's favourites so it was fitting that 4B were the ones to win the hampers. Sir Wilfred almost broke down as he announced the result and praised the winners, and there was a moment that, I must say, gave me a twinge as well: all the main participants in 4B were surrounded by their parents on the stage a few minutes after it was over - all except for Simpson, and I caught a glimpse of her, just for a moment, looking so sad and enviously at the others. My heart went out to her. Fortunately, dear Margaret went up and put an arm round her, and I'm sure Simpson went and had a jolly good feast with her class-mates back in the form room afterwards - three bumper-sized hampers full of all sorts of goodies! I wouldn't be surprised if there were one or two girls feeling rather sick after that lot!

  At around six o'clock, after the vast majority of the visitors had left, Lionel Hastings, Sir Wilfred's oldest friend on the Governing body, accompanied him to his car and said he'd drive him home and stay there for a few days - one mustn't be alone after such a loss, and the poor old man was clearly exhausted. A number of us (at Verily's request) went to stand on the front steps to see them off. And then ... the most extraordinary thing happened - it was a sight I don't think I shall ever forget.

  All day there'd been large numbers of magpies gathered in various parts of the grounds arousing great curiosity amongst visitors, staff and girls. Quite why so many happened to come together here, now, I have no idea - apparently they do sometimes, though I've certainly never seen such a quantity in one place. But at this moment, as Sir Wilfred's Bentley turned to leave and we raised our hands in farewell, the birds seemed all to have congregated here, on the gravelled forecourt of the school. And, to our astonishment, they formed themselves into two, more or less distinct, extended cohorts, lining the driveway, as if in homage to the departing Sir Wilfred. We all stood dumb-founded and considerably moved by this exhibition: it seemed almost to be Nature's valediction to our kindly Chair of Governors and generous benefactor.

  I noticed Verily smiling faintly and shaking her head as if something amused her. When I asked her what it was, she waved her hand dismissively and said, in a rather distracted manner, "Oh, nothing, Edith, nothing really," and proceeded to tell me about the arrangements for this Meeth character tomorrow morning. I thought it a bit off really, and remembered other such moments recently - her reaction to my asking about that book, for example. Hm!

  Mind you, she was to make up for it in spades later on!

  If it were possible, the best of the day was kept for last: the staff dinner. Pearson and the rest of the prefects had been left in charge of supervising the girls, allowing us a rare opportunity to eat together as a whole staff.

  It was certainly a very jolly affair, enlivened no end by the six bottles of Chateau Le Chalard most generously and thoughtfully provided by Sir Wilfred for just that purpose. And we were joined by Patricia Thomas (nee Desmond) - mother of our current Thomas, of course - a contemporary of Verily's here at the Hall, whom I confess I don't remember much as a girl. She's staying overnight as she lives rather far away, Monica having kindly offered her her room in the East wing.

  As the wine flowed, Verily was on absolutely marvellous form - I've never seen her so full of vim and good humour, and she revealed rather more about her own schooldays than I would normally have thought was proper for a Headmistress, especially with junior staff present, but she did it so charmingly that somehow it didn't undermine her authority at all. Emily and Prudence were simply wide-eyed with wonder as Verily recounted some of the thrashings she'd endured. I noticed both of them looking very flushed, and I don't think it was just the wine.

  Among other hilarious anecdotes, she and Patricia regaled us with the story of Miss Bates' car - an episode I'd completely forgotten, but which, once reminded (and Verily's grasp of the details was remarkable), I was able to recall fairly clearly: my memory, as a Junior mistress at the time, was simply of two girls who'd got a jolly thorough seeing-to from Miss Bentley for wanton destruction of a teacher's property - a very serious matter, of course. But Verily and Patricia's account brought home to me how little we mistresses sometimes understand of what goes on behind the scenes: girls' motives for doing the things they do, which we don't think to ask about and which they don't care to volunteer, are often much nobler and more high-minded than we tend to give them credit for.

  After dinner the entire staff, along with Mrs Thomas, repaired to Verily's study where the banter and jollity carried on. Dear Monica and Margaret, who have been quite inseparable lately (it's so lovely to see such friendships blossoming among one's colleagues) circulated with glasses of port or liqueur for all. And, oh, how we laughed! Such tales of mischief and mistakes, of girls' absurdly unlikely excuses, of embarrassing moments in classrooms ... I was wiping the tears from my face! And then, about ten, when we were all beginning to tire and the evening's pleasure seemed drawing to a close, Verily stood and held up her glass.

  "Edith," she said, "could you please make sure everyone has a full glass?"

  As I got up and went round topping people up, Verily cleared her throat and proceeded to make a speech which went something like this:

  "Ladies, some of you have served Cropton Hall for decades..." (they all looked at me, nodding and smiling) "...some for several years, others for a matter of months. I have been Headmistress here for just four weeks, yet it feels like ... well, somehow it feels like a very long, and wonderful, time. I love this school and I hope we shall work together to improve its reputation and bring success for the girls in our care for many years to come."

  Eileen called out a heartfelt, "Here! Here!"

  Verily smiled, but her voice as she continued became more sombre. "We have had a wonderful evening together, after a day eventful with both tragedy and joy. But, ladies, we must never forget that we live by the grace of ... God; never forget that at any time we may be taken from life; that nothing lasts - all things must pass. But whatever happens, the name of Cropton Hall shall live on, and we can all be proud that we have played a part in her story."

  She looked down for a moment and took a deep breath, as if gaining control of her emotions.

  "And so, dear friends, please raise your glasses with me now... "

  We all stood up, some I confess rather unsteadily. Verily raised her glass toward the ceiling and looked up at it, her expression full of yearning, her eyes shining.

  "And join me in a most loving toast ... to Cropton Hall!"

  "To Cropton Hall!"

  Every one of us emptied our glass. There was a silence before Verily spoke again, this time in her more usual, business-like tones.

  "There will be a special assembly tomorrow morning at eight-thirty. It will be addressed by Sir Stanlegh Meeth. For those of you who have not yet heard about Sir Stanlegh, he is Cropton Hall's most important benefactor, a fact we have only recently become aware of. I am not party to his intentions so we shall have to wait and see what it is he wishes to say to us all, but I'm sure it will be enlightening. Thank you all for your wonderful efforts today. The girls were marvellous, and ... " She looked around with a mysterious smile. " ... it may have escaped your notice, but, apart from this morning's assembly canings, there has not been cause for a single whacking or caning all day, and I think, ladies, that that is surely a first for this term."

  Monica started clapping and almost immediately we all were. It felt, although she joined in herself, as if the applause was for Verily.

  Most of us retired after that, leaving Verily chatting happily on the sofas with Patr
icia, Margaret and Monica.

  So ... what a day! Certainly a Founders Day to remember.

  And what, I wonder, will this Meeth chap be wanting to say? I hope he isn't one of these self-aggrandising types who loves the sound of his own voice and goes on and on and on. The girls tend to start fidgeting after ten minutes of the Sunday sermon as it is. But never mind! He can say what he likes - we're the ones who run this school. He'll be gone by lunchtime, I dare say, and it'll be we who carry on - carry on the good work.

  ---oOo---

  After Monica and Margaret made their goodnights, Verily and Patricia were, finally, alone.

  "Refill?" asked Verily. She reached forward for the port decanter on the low table between them.

  "Thank you." Patricia held her glass out. "Richard won't allow it in the house. His father was an alcoholic - rather sad and awful story actually - so Richard's very strict on the matter. This evening's been rather a treat for me."

  "Of course. Well, in moderation..."

  As she filled Patricia's small glass, Verily's mind wandered back to the book - it had been in her thoughts a lot the past few days as she'd read her way through the first half. She already knew, of course, about Dr Thomas' prohibition on alcohol, and the image of Patricia giving Rachel that swishing for coming home tipsy with Susan French had stayed with her vividly. One thing about the book that puzzled her, though, was why her own thoughts were so rarely described. Most of the other main ... participants in the story had their viewpoint and feelings shown, but hers? Hardly ever. She wondered why.

  "You have some delightful colleagues, Verily," said Patricia, sipping her port, "and this evening has been such fun. Thank you. I'm so glad you persuaded me to stay."

  Verily sat back and smiled. "So am I."

  "Tell me - are ... er ... Monica and Margaret ... um ... they seem very close?"

  "Yes, Patricia, they're lesbians. It's not uncommon in establishments such as ours, and the girls are quite safe with them, I assure you."